They are not made out of paper.

They are not made out of clay.

They are made out of the things around us,

That we see every day.

They are made out of emotions.

Most of them from fear.

Some of them from anger.

Some to hide the tears.

But why should they even exist,

In all honesty?

In fact, that's the word that should describe us best.

People like you and me.

But only when the time is right,

And we feel safe and good.

Will we take down our emotional masks,

Like we all know that we should.



Poetry Slam: 
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